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“Why don’t you fucking lay off of it for today, of all days.” Keith stepped in front of Sean. “You selfish . . .”
“Fuck you, man.” Sean bowed up against Keith. He was a few inches shorter and smaller build, but Sean knew how to fight. And Keith wasn’t a fighter.
Ricky looked down at me.
I nodded. He let go of my hand to go referee. It was usually my brother’s job, but Ricky was the next most even-keeled guy in the group.
“We are not doing this here.” Ricky stood between them. “Not today.” He nodded toward me.
“Hey, don’t look at me.” I held my hands up. “If y’all want to shout expletives at each other and beat the tar out of each other, go ahead. It would be the fucking icing on the shittiest cake in existence.” I rolled my eyes and turned toward the front of the church, just in time to watch the coffin being carried down the steps. I groaned and my stomach flipped a thousand times a minute.
Ricky walked up behind me and took my hand. “Watch your mouth, Little Tree,” he whispered in my ear. My heart fluttered. Damn him.
“Why aren’t y’all carrying the coffin?” I watched as my uncles and cousins placed the coffin in the waiting hearse.
“Your mom asked,” Roman spoke up. “Something about the six of us together again.”
I shuddered.
“It didn’t feel right.” Michael took my other hand. “She said she understood. I guess your family wanted to be a part of the ceremony.”
“Let’s get out of here.” Roman walked backward toward the limo waiting in the street. We followed. I walked backward, not ready to take my eyes off my brother. He was being cremated. No graveyard to visit. No final resting place. Everything I had of my brother was inside my mind and heart already. It scared me to death. Would it be enough to remember him for the rest of my life?
It had to be.
We crawled back into the limousine. Roman instructed the driver to take us to The Mill. It was an old family-owned restaurant on the outskirts of town. Basically, three barns put together and wooden picnic benches strung across a concrete floor. Peanut hulls and hay made your footing unsteady. I guess they hadn’t gotten the whole peanut allergy advisory.
We’d beaten the rest of the crowd and commandeered a small alcove off the main dining room. They brought a bucket of beer out to our table. Sean grabbed one and downed it. He grabbed another before going to sit at the other end of the table.
Roman paced the room on his phone. Michael grabbed a beer and walked back into the main room to speak to the arriving guests.
As the rest of the people arrived, I secretly willed them to not come too close. Move along, nothing to see here. It was Keith’s parents who approached to burst my protective bubble.
“Key.” Ricky motioned with a head nod. Keith jumped up and intercepted them. No doubt they were on their way to offer their condolences to me.
Under any other circumstances, I wouldn’t have minded the attention. I was always better with parents then with people my own age. It probably had to do with the fact my own parents and I weren’t close. I aspired to have parents like Michael, who attended every game of his since he was in Pop Warner Pee Wee Football. Or Roman’s dad, who he currently works for, doing what I’m not sure. I never asked.
Keith’s father caught my eye and waved. He and Keith looked exactly alike and had the same loud and jovial personality. They both walked around with a permanent grin. The current frown on their faces and slumped posture was jarring. I looked away.
Michael walked back in and sat next to me. He sat a drink down in front of me.
“What is this?” I took a sip. The lime and tequila caused my lips to pucker. I took another sip.
“Slow down. It’s strong.” Michael frowned. “When’s the last time you ate?”
I shrugged and took another sip. It went straight to my head. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“See.” Michael pushed the drink away.
“It’s not the alcohol, it’s the ice headache.” The pain faded to a dull ache, so I reached for the glass again.
“Let’s get some food first.” Ricky moved the glass out of my reach. I stood up to retrieve it but stopped when the waitress walked in with platters of fried seafood.
The rest of the guys all joined us at the table. Roman sat across from Michael, Keith returned and sat opposite me, next to Sean who already sat at the other end. Keith dug into the food first.
“Where’s your manners?” Roman hit his arm.
“What?” He said with a piece of catfish sticking out of his mouth. I giggled.
